


I Saw the Light

by royaltyjunk



Category: Fire Emblem: Seisen no Keifu | Fire Emblem: Genealogy of the Holy War
Genre: Childhood Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Friendship, party time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-16 08:54:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16082732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/royaltyjunk/pseuds/royaltyjunk
Summary: [Starship!AU] In which the Mishaverse is turned into a starship!AU, or at least part of it.





	I Saw the Light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Deetvar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deetvar/gifts).



> Author’s Ideas: HAPPY BIRTHDAY LANCE  
> I was thinking about writing a Miranda-centric piece or an Azel/Lachesis piece but I couldn’t find it in myself to not go back to the basics so time to shower you in Lewyn/Deet’var  
> As for how this came about, I was prowling through AU ideas and this one just kind of stuck with me for some reason so here you go (also because you reference Starfox everytime and I couldn’t resist)

Deet’var sighed, running a hand along the controls of her ship before forcing herself to steer it towards Sailane, where enemy forces awaited.

They were not her enemies, to tell the truth. In fact, it was quite the opposite. But they were Lord Maios’s enemies, and so she was bound by duty to defeat them.

The beeping made her turn her gaze to the radar beside her steering wheel. The enemy forces were closing into them. She turned on her communications channel.

“Third wing, triangle formation.”

In an instant a crowd of airships fell into formation behind her.

“Forward,” she commanded. They all sped forward, ready to confront the enemies threatening their country.

She clashed head-on with Erinys, who immediately tried to swerve and avoid Deet’var. Deet’var hissed. Of course Erinys did not want to fight. Would she ever see the grave and bitter truth of the world?

No matter. She continued forward, exchanging blows with another starship mere seconds later. Simply a look at the name of the ship proved her to be a formidable opponent—the _Yewfelle_ , one of the twelve Holy Starships. It required a massive amount of skill and strength to properly maneuver the ship, but when one could, they were considered a deadly force on the battlefield.

“Aim for the prince!” Deet’var commanded before swerving to the side to avoid the lasers fired from the _Yewfelle_. The enemy ship pursued her relentlessly, and Deet’var found herself dipping below ships and soaring above others to avoid the lasers being shot at her.

Suddenly, she came face to face with a ship that was painstakingly familiar. The beautiful golden lettering and the pegasus’s wing after the name of the ship did not distract her from who her opponent was.

Deet’var let out a sneer when she saw Erinys turn and attempt to speed away from Deet’var. She chased after Erinys, firing incessantly. Erinys always was a coward.

Deet’var continued to fire at the retreating Erinys. Eventually, as she hoped, Erinys turned and began to fire back. Deet’var dropped to avoid the lasers being fired at her, attempting to fly underneath Erinys’s ship. However, a dot of red came speeding towards her on her radar, and so Deet’var turned and fired at the oncoming ship.

Of course it was him. Lewyn, that coward of a prince. Suddenly her palms were sweaty, and she was gripping the steering wheel so much tighter.

She just fired at him before chasing after Erinys. Lewyn followed, hot on her trail, and firing after her. Deet’var spiraled in and out of the lasers, intent on staying behind Erinys.

Her ship suddenly trembled, and Deet’var’s gaze shot to the red alert flashing in the screen where her radar would usually be. Somehow Lewyn must have struck her ship, and hard at that.

“ _Theodora_ has been damaged. Emergency landing advised.”

“Gods damn it,” Deet’var hissed, turning abruptly and flying away from Erinys and Lewyn. “Cover me!” she barked into the communications channel.

Instantly, two ships moved to block Erinys and Lewyn from pursuing Deet’var, and others flew in to stop other ships from pursuing her. She let out a sigh of relief and steered her ship downwards, hiding it under a canvas of trees by the river near Thove Castle, before glancing at the alert situating itself over her radar.

“The wing… of course it’s the wing.” Thankfully it was just a quick fix—all it was missing was a few of its connectors to the main ship. She dug through the holders in the back of her ship, feeling triumph when she located the parts.

She raised her cockpit, looking around cautiously before leaping out and hurrying to the broken wing. She had run into this malfunction multiple times, so it proved to be a quick fix. Deet’var discarded the broken parts into a box and tucked it under her arm as she closed the cover to the wings internal hardware.

The wind began to blow through the forest, and Deet’var felt her heart stir. The wind and the new foes she had been fighting brought back memories of her childhood, when she and Lewyn had spent their years as springy youths experiencing the glory of Silessia.

The wind had always reminded her of him.

A rustle in the trees made her turn her head suddenly, staring at the tree which the disturbance had come from. Deet’var narrowed her eyes. Was she just hallucinating that shadowy blob crouched between the branches, shifting about, or was that just the wind?

Her hand raised without a single thought, firing her gun at the tree. A gold-haired woman leapt out from the tree.

Deet’var let out a cuss, dropping the box of parts and moving to climb into her cockpit, but the woman had already fired a warning shot in front of the box by Deet’var’s feet.

“Move and I'll shoot!” the woman threatened. Deet’var froze, and the woman approached her. “Drop your gun.”

Deet’var followed the demand before beginning to snarl, “What are—”

“Sorry, but don’t hate me for this,” the gold-haired woman interrupted before pouncing forward, holding Deet’var in a headlock before pressing a rag to Deet’var’s mouth. Her world went dark.

~ / . / . / ~

Deet’var watched with narrowed eyes as Lewyn left the prison and the door locked behind him, leaving her to stare at the dark walls of her holding cell. Their conversation had not been particularly long or intricate, but it was the simple words they had spoken to each other that had made them both deeply aware of the rift that stood between them.

It seemed that childhood innocence was in fact, a relic of the past. Their connection had been blown away in the winds of their youth. All that remained were snappy words and challenges—challenges to each others’ positions on the civil war, challenges to her lord, challenges to his manhood.

The door clicked, breaking her out of her thoughts, and Deet’var glanced up. Instead of Lewyn, Erinys, or one of their companions, a woman with a laser gun strapped to her hip and a glint of triumph in her eyes gestured for her to stand.

“Pamela!” Deet’var threw herself forward and hugged her friend tightly. Pamela hugged her back.

“How did you get in?” Deet’var whispered as they left the prison behind them.

Pamela gestured to the unconscious man lying beside her prison cell—the guard. She must have knocked him out and used his fingerprint to unlock the door.

“Clever,” she remarked.

“A common tactic,” Pamela corrected. Deet’var smiled, and Pamela smiled back, but there was something in Pamela’s eyes—something wary and distant and unlike the usual emotions of relief that would usually display themselves in Pamela when they were together. Her gaze was flitting around with a sense of terror, so unlike her usual demeanor under stress.

Before Deet’var could ask, Pamela turned, her laser gun drawn, and fired at Deet’var. She threw herself to the side to avoid the flashing light beam, watching in horror as Pamela pointed the barrel of her laser gun at her.

“...No hard feelings, Deet’var,” Pamela whispered, but her hands were quivering. Deet’var stared back at her.

The sound of a laser gun being fired echoed through the hallway, and Deet’var squeezed her eyes shut. She prepared herself to greet the strike of the dead, to meet the jaws of death.

Instead of feeling a burn against her chest and the claim of death on her soul, she heard Pamela let out a yell. Deet’var’s eyes shot open.

Lewyn was racing down the hallway, his own gun in hand. Pamela let out a hiss, holding a hand against her shoulder, as she turned to look at Deet’var before darting away.

Lewyn stared after Pamela, his eyes narrowed and hardened with anger and betrayal, before he hurried to Deet’var’s side.

“Are you alright?” he asked. She nodded.

Lewyn helped her up, and Deet’var stumbled before steadying herself. Her hand shot out, stealing Lewyn’s gun. Before he could protest or try to stop her, she took off, following after Pamela.

Of course Daccar had ordered her to kill Deet’var. Deet’var had to help Pamela see the light before it was too late—before the light of the heavens claimed Pamela just as they had claimed Mahnya.

~ / . / . / ~

Deet’var scrambled into _Theodora_ , ignoring Lewyn’s calls for her to wait. She closed the cockpit and began to prepare her ship for take-off.

“Deet’var!”

Lewyn’s voice was heavily muffled through the thick glass of her cockpit. She ignored him, flipping the switches above her and glancing at her radar.

“Deet’var!” he yelled again. “What are you doing!?”

With a hiss of annoyance, she opened the cockpit by just the tiniest crack. “Isn’t it obvious?” she snapped. “I’m going to go fight Pamela!”

“I really don’t think you should do that, Deet’var,” he said, stepping up to reach his hand through the cockpit and pull it up in an attempt to stop her.

“What I should and shouldn’t do is none of your concern,” she replied, and slammed the glass down. Lewyn jumped and stepped away as she started the engine. She turned to glare at him pointedly, and his shocked face was the last thing she saw before she took off.

Deet’var couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief as soon as she was met with the blue sky and the snow-covered peaks of Silessia. She guided her ship upwards, zipping towards Zaxon Castle. Just at the corner of her radar was a speck of blue—Pamela’s ship. It had stopped moving a few minutes ago, surely to engage Deet’var in one-on-one air combat.

Deet’var had to hurry. Pamela was waiting for her, waiting for someone to pull her out of the dark. She pressed her foot against the speed pedal, urging her ship forward.

A beep signaled Pamela’s entry into their communications channel. In the distance Deet’var could see her ship, hovering in the air over the forest.

“So you came, did you?” Pamela sneered.

“I don’t want to fight you, Pamela!”

“That’s a dangerous mindset to hold. Didn’t you learn anything from our time at the academy?”

“I learned that we’re friends, Pamela! I don’t want to hurt you! We can solve this with words, not violence!”

Pamela barked out a cold laugh. “Fine then, Deet’var. If you really think that, you can greet my lasers!”

Another beep signified that Pamela had disconnected from their communications channel. Deet’var gritted her teeth as Pamela sped forward and dove beneath her, firing at the wings of her aircraft. Pamela owned the same model she had—they both knew each other and their weaknesses. She drove her starship in a large curve to avoid Pamela’s lasers before charging forward, shooting back at Pamela.

She then flew straight up into the sky before hitting a button beside the firing joystick. From her wings expanded long blades, meant to emanate swords which could tear through a ship’s wings.

Pamela’s communication channel reconnected. She let out a snort. “Going to your last resort already?”

“I was always better at flying than you were,” Deet’var responded, “and if you’re so bothered by them, maybe you’d like to pull yours out too.”

“I won’t fight like a coward,” Pamela hissed back and disconnected. Seconds later, lasers rained down on the top of the _Theodora_. Deet’var quickly switched her engine to full boost and curved away to avoid Pamela’s lasers before speeding towards Pamela. Pamela backed away and fired back at Deet’var.

Mahnya, Pamela, Deet’var, and Erinys had bespoke ships, made for the top four knights of Silessia. All of them were based on the same base ship, but tailored to fit each person’s personal fighting styles. Queen Rahna had said that it was the least she could do to support the four knights fighting to protect their country.

That was why Deet’var, out of all of them, had the longest and sharpest blades on her ship, and of all of them who could have the most technologically advanced engine Pamela did, as she was the one who used the speed pedal like it was her second nature.

The two ships danced through the sky like shooting stars, firing and swerving. Deet’var swore as one of Pamela’s lasers struck the bottom of her wing, a shared weakness between their ships.

Her enemy seemed to be speared on due to the first blood drawn—Pamela began to fire rapidly, encircling Deet’var’s ship. Deet’var dipped dangerously low, the bottom of her ship brushing against the snow-covered tips of trees as she raced to get away. An array of lasers followed after her.

A buzz of static from the communications channel made her jump, and when Pamela spoke her voice was subdued and sad, not at all like the anger she had been expressing.

“I’m sorry it had to be this way.”

“Why!?” Deet’var burst out, an eruption of emotions in her voice. “Why can’t you just… take the safe route for once!? I don’t want to kill you, and you don’t want to kill me! Please, Pamela! Please—”

Pamela fired suddenly, and Deet’var jerked her ship to the side, her hand tight around the wheel with anticipation.

But Pamela did not turn or fire back. She left herself wide open, but she had to know it—that was a rookie mistake, turning a blind eye to the sides of one’s ship.

Deet’var’s stomach lurched sickly. Her heart twisted unhappily.

“Let me see her again.” Pamela’s voice was barely audible. Her ship floated a distance away in front of Deet’var’s.

“...I’m sorry,” Deet’var whispered.

In one swift motion, she drove her ship forward and splintered off one of Pamela’s starship’s wings. Pamela’s ship smoked and heaved, jolting up and down. Deet’var fired, watching as her lasers tore through the other starship. It fell in bits to the ground. The glass of the cockpit was splattered with blood.

“ _Angelic Knight_ down,” the system reported, the words like a sword to the heart. Deet’var covered her face with her hands and sobbed.

~ / . / . / ~

A knock sounded from her door. She didn’t move from her place under her covers. The knock came again, louder and accompanied by a voice.

“Deet’var?”

It was Lewyn. She pulled the covers over her head and turned away from the door.

“I’m coming in,” he warned. She didn’t say anything, and just pulled her covers even further over her head when she heard the door creak open. The sound of a flick indicated to her that Lewyn had turned on the lights.

“What do you want?” she growled. Her voice was raspy from disuse.

“I wanted to check in on you,” he responded. She felt a shift in weight on her mattress; he must have sat down on her bed. “See how you are doing.”

“Just leave.”

She felt a pull at her covers, and tightened her grip on them. Lewyn let out a hefty sigh.

“Deet’var, I’m worried about you. You can’t just lock yourself in your room and not come out.”

“Well I am. So leave.” Her voice was curt. She didn't want to deal with him right now.

“I’ll leave if you answer my question.”

Deet’var let out an angry sigh. “Fine.”

“Do you want to stay with Erinys and I, and serve in Sigurd’s army?”

Deet’var stayed silent, hoping he would drop the topic and leave if she didn’t speak, but it became clear that Lewyn was expecting an answer.

“I don’t know, Lewyn.” There was a sense of exasperation in her voice, but there was also something so very sad beneath that exasperation. She did not know—she really did not know—and the emotion of emptiness and loss in her heart was something that she had not experienced for years, ever since Lewyn left when they were young and had the world to themselves.

“I… I think Pamela would want you to stay with us.”

Anger exploded in her heart, and she had to bite her lip to keep herself from screaming at him.

“Don’t you ever use her name to try and convince me to do something,” she hissed instead, letting her covers drop just enough so that she could glare at him furiously. He froze, and then nodded.

“...I’m sorry,” he murmured. She just huffed and retreated back into her sheets, although a part of her so very appreciated that he understood her reasons for her requests, so very glad that he did not press her boundaries like so many other men had tried to do and found themselves facing the end of her gun.

“I’m going to go,” he stated after a heavy silence, and his weight shifted off of the mattress. “I’ll just leave this here for you then, since you don’t come out of your covers. I… really hope you consider my offer, Deet’var.”

Deet’var heard the click of something against her nightstand before Lewyn flicked the lights off and closed the door behind him. Slowly, she pulled the covers away. On the nightstand, Lewyn had left a candle and a box of matches.

Gods, he was an idiot for trusting her with a box of matches. That was a weapon, something dangerous that shouldn’t be in the hands of someone like her. She wanted to burn the gods damned building down to prove to him that he shouldn’t have believed in someone like her.

But she doesn’t. Instead, she lights a match and watches as the candle catches fire, illuminating the room in a soft orange light.

Pamela had loved candles. They were considered wildly out of fashion, especially for such a technologically advanced period as theirs, but Pamela had always found enjoyment in items of older times. Candles, tape recorders, and stamps were undeniable favorites.

There was unspoken sentiment behind Lewyn’s actions and, as hard as Deet’var tried, she couldn’t deny that Lewyn’s actions touched her beyond words. It reminded her of the times they had spent together as children, in the cold Silessia winds as they flirted with each other unashamedly and trusted each other wholeheartedly.

“...Tell me, Pamela,” she pleaded, her words directed to the light. “What should I do?”

Yet, in her heart, she knew what she should do.

~ / . / . / ~

Deet’var pulled her knees into her chest, attempting to stifle the tears welling in her eyes. Her room was dark—she hadn’t bothered turning on the lights before curling up on her bed.

It had all been going so well. She had been out, running errands for Sigurd and Lewyn, when one villager sneered that she was nothing more than a turncoat looking to save her own life. Insults turned to stones. She might’ve been stoned to death if Erinys hadn’t stepped in.

And maybe they were right. Maybe she didn’t know her motives as well as she thought she did. Maybe she was just a traitor who wanted to save her own life, and ran from her duties with her tail tucked between her legs.

The cold winter wind battered at her windows, slamming snow against the glass. She just curled into herself tighter, hugging her legs closer to her chest. Normally, the wind was something refreshing to her. It reminded her of the happiness she had once had, during those days when she and Lewyn were but teenagers, happy and joyful.

But now, it reminded her of everything that was wrong, that nothing would ever return to the way it was. That no one would ever see her the same. That no one would ever care for her the same.

“Deet’var? Are you alright?” Lewyn’s voice echoed through the door.

She wiped at her eyes, taking in a deep breath before opening the door. “I’m fine,” she said, brushing past him to make for the ship storage. She needed to take a fly in _Theodora_. It didn’t matter how snowy it was outside.

Lewyn hurried after her. “I can’t say that I believe you, Deet’var,” he said. She glared at him.

“I said I’m fine.”

“Okay then. I’ll tell you that I don’t believe you one bit.”

Deet’var let out a hiss of anger. “Well, what does it matter to you?”

“I’m worried about you!” Lewyn cried, taking her by the arm and turning her to face him. “I’ve been worried sick about you, Deet’var! I know that the way people treat you is hurting you! Why won’t you tell me the truth!?”

She tore her arm away from his grasp and glared at him. “Because it doesn’t matter. No one cares about me. I’m just a traitor, Lewyn. No one cares about me.”

“I care about you!”

“Like hell you do,” she spat back. Lewyn growled in frustration and quickened his pace to stand in front of her.

“Deet’var, I care about you! I’ve always cared about you! Why won’t you tell me about what’s bothering you!?” Lewyn was looking at her with passionate eyes.

“Because you shouldn’t get involved with me!” she screamed. “And I shouldn’t even be talking with you!”

“Why not!? Why won’t you let me help you, Deet’var!?”

“Because—” Deet’var cut herself off.

“I care about you, Deet’var! You’re my friend—you’ve been my friend! I trusted you, I believed you! I still do! Why won’t you trust me!?”

In the heat of the moment and the realization of the true meaning behind his words, she forgot everything other than the urges screaming in her heart. She grabbed him by the collar and pulled him forward into a passionate kiss.

She felt his breath hitch against her mouth, and then his hands moved to hold her upon the swell of her hips. His thumbs dragged along the bones of her hips, leaning in to kiss her back. The necklace dangling from his neck brushed against her neck, and she curled a finger around the sword charm that hung from it.

“Is that the answer you were looking for?” she murmured when she pulled away, glancing up at him. Lewyn was standing, holding her with a dazed and delighted look in his eyes.

“So much more,” he answered softly. “I…” he pulled her into another kiss before taking her by the hand. “Not here. Come with me.”

He closed the door behind him when they made it to his room, and they shared a glance before breaking out into smiles. 

The feeling of the metal sword charm hanging from Lewyn’s neck brushing against her skin felt like ten degrees below nothing and his breath was like the wind, so refreshing and cooling that nothing in the world mattered but him and her—but them.

~ / . / . / ~

It occurred to Deet’var the next morning that she was, to put it simply, full of regrets.

She was tangled in the sheets with a warm body pressed against her back. It took her a few moments to realize that there was indeed another person in her bed, another few to realize this was not her bed, and a whole minute for the gravity of the situation she was in to set in.

Panic shot through her, and she took a deep breath before pushing aside the blankets and climbing out of bed swiftly, her eyes scouring the room for her tunic. It lay at the foot of the bed, tossed and wrinkled from the night before. Stirring and movement in the bed made her turn.

“Deet’var…?” Lewyn mumbled, sitting up.

“I need to go,” she said, already halfway through pulling on her tunic.

“Deet’var, wait—”

“I need to go,” she repeated, ignoring him as she ran a hand through her hair and smoothed out her tunic. She leaned down to pick up her boots.

A hand caught her wrist, and she tore her arm from Lewyn’s grip.

“Don’t touch me,” she growled.

“Deet’var, are you ashamed?”

The question made her stiffen slightly before she turned her head away from him. She refused to give him an answer, to give him the satisfaction of seeing her so broken and indecisive—

“Are you worried about what other people are going to think?”

“Of course I am,” she replied angrily. “You’re a prince. I’m just a lowly commander—I’m not even a commander, Lewyn! I’m a traitor! No one trusts me!”

“I trust you.”

“No, you don’t.” Her retort was bitter. Lewyn frowned.

“You don’t believe me?” His voice was low. She froze.

“...I believe you. I just don’t believe that anyone would trust me,” she murmured, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. She turned to look at him. “I’m a traitor, Lewyn.”

“That doesn’t make me love you any less.”

Deet’var bit her lip, averting her gaze again. She heard Lewyn let out a sigh and, out of the corner of her eye, saw Lewyn bend down to pick up his shirt and pull it over his head before falling back to sit on his bed.

He ran a hand through his tousled hair before looking at her with a solemn expression in his eyes. Deet’var refused to meet his gaze as he spoke.

“...I don’t want you to hate yourself anymore,” he murmured.

“That’s not exactly something you can stop me from doing.”

“I know that but—”

“I don’t understand why you’re putting in so much effort to keep me here.”

“I care about you, Deet’var. As a man, or whatever bit of man is left in me after running away.”

“So you care about me as a coward.”

Lewyn snorted. “We’re a fine pair, a coward and a traitor.”

Deet’var could not help but let out a crude laugh. Lewyn watched her with twinkling eyes.

“Perhaps when you put it that way, I am more willing to believe your flattery,” she commented. Lewyn scoffed in mock anger.

“Flattery? You wound me, my lady.” His playful expression softened into one of care. “...Are you really that ashamed of what we did?”

“Not of what we did. Of… of what your reputation will become because of me.”

“My reputation became irrelevant years ago.”

“You’re still the prince,” she retorted gently, “and I’m not fit to be your consort.”

They were both fully aware that the conversation had circled around, all the way back to the beginning. A sense of frustration welled up in Deet’var’s heart. Lewyn reached for the back of his neck, and Deet’var looked on as he unhooked the sword charm around his neck.

Slowly, he stood and approached her. She watched him with questioning eyes.

“Even if you think you are not fit to be my consort, I think you are. Would you allow me to gift you this, as a reminder of my love?” he requested.

“...Very well.”

He reached behind her, clasping the necklace around her neck. It felt strange to have something resting between her collarbones, but she could get used to it… especially if it was to serve as a reminder of Lewyn’s willingness to accept someone like her.

Lewyn let his hands fall to his side, but he did not step away. Instead, he made a demand that she could not have expected.

“Tell me to kiss you so you won’t feel ashamed.”

“...Kiss me then,” she whispered. He didn’t hesitate in taking her face in his hands and kissing her. She closed her eyes, letting her feelings and emotions take over her until all she could feel was a thumping, beating love deep in her chest.

And so, as the days went on and the truth became known to everyone, that indeed Prince Lewyn of Silessia was courting the former enemy commander Deet’var, she learned that she did not feel ashamed. In the beginning there was certainly a sense of apprehension towards others’ reactions, but she learned that, as more people showed happiness and blessed them with well-wishes, she became more and more unashamed of their love.

She learned that she, too, could love. She, too, could care about someone. She, too, could have someone be her guiding light, and though she despised herself, she found that Lewyn more than often called her his light.

“You are my light,” he murmured, resting a hand on her back. Deet’var rolled her eyes, as she was wont to do. “I promise I’m not sweet talking you.”

“Contrary to popular belief,” she remarked sarcastically. Lewyn laughed.

“Really, Deet’var. I want you to believe me.”

Deet’var pursed her lips and stayed silent. Lewyn leaned down to kiss her on her forehead.

“Please. I want you to love yourself as much as you love others,” he murmured. Her vision blurred, and she rubbed at her eyes. Through her tear-filled vision, Lewyn smiled and hugged her.

“Thank you,” she whispered, closing her fingers around her necklace.

“I love you,” he responded.

~ / . / . / ~

It all happened so quickly. One moment, Sigurd was standing as his cockpit opened, a great smile on his lips while he slowed down in front of Belhalla Castle.

The next, he was cursing Arvis as the Roten Ritter took to the air and opened fire.

Deet’var bit her lip to hold back a scream as Sigurd fell to his knees, blood seeping from a wound in his chest. Arvis had fired the gun in his hand, a hint of satisfaction in his movements as he shut the cockpit of the _Valflame_ and flew away towards Belhalla Castle on the tail of the starship _Naga_.

“Sigurd!” Lachesis screamed, her voice echoing through the transmitters.

“Run!” Briggid yelled.

They needed no other commands. Deet’var took a sharp turn and began to fly away.

” _Tyrfing_ down.”

Deet’var’s fingers tightened around the controllers of her starship. Lewyn swore loudly.

“Watch—” Jamke’s voice was cut off. A moment later, a robotic voice reported, “ _Forest Prince_ down.”

Out of the corner of the radar, Deet’var saw a squadron of enemy starships approaching their fleeing and scattered forces. She swiveled and began to fire upon the Roten Ritter. A few ships exploded, and others swerved and curved through the air to dodge her attacks.

“ _Brave Knight_ down.”

Deet’var grit her teeth as she spiraled away from the Roten Ritter’s lasers. Red lights grazed her wings but she flew away, hot on the trail of the remains of their little army.

“ _Bow Knight_ down.”

Deet’var let out a heavy sigh as she continued forward. A laser struck the corner of her wing. She turned sharply and fired back. Her radar beeped, and out of the corner of the black screen, she watched as a whole squadron of reinforcements descended upon their fleeing fleet.

“ _Golden Paladin_ down. _Green Paladin_ down. _Gladiator_ down.”

“Oh my gods,” Silvia whispered. “They’re…”

“ _Yewfelle_ down.”

Deet’var’s gaze turned to look about frantically, trying to locate the broken ship flying through the sky.

“They’re massacring us,” Ayra finished Silvia’s comment.

“Go!” Lewyn yelled, his ship flying in front of them. “I’ll take care of them!”

“If you’re staying, then I’m staying!” Deet’var hissed.

“No!” his voice was harsh, and she jumped.

“What do you mean?” she demanded.

“Go with them, Deet’var! I’ll hold them off!”

“No, I—”

“Go!” There was a tone of desperation in his voice. She froze. “Go!” he repeated.

She bit her lip. “You’d better come back,” she said, her voice wavering.

“I will,” he murmured.

Squeezing her hands tight around the controls of her ship, she jerked herself backwards and soared away, cursing her inability to vocalize the emotions stirring in her heart.

For the first time in her life, she prayed to the gods. To keep him safe, that they would be able to return to their home together with their daughter and live in happiness and peace.

“Make for Lubeck,” Lachesis was speaking. “We… we’ll have to split up once we return. We can’t risk having Arvis’s forces finding us.”

“You’re right,” Erinys admitted, although it was clear she was reluctant in her agreement. “For now, we should go.”

“...Yeah.” Tailtiu murmured. She was so unlike her normal self, who would have been bounding about cheerfully, encouraging them with positive sayings. It seemed that… massacre had even managed to hurt Tailtiu beyond words.

“ _Forseti_ down.”

Deet’var’s heart plummeted. Her hands moved with a mind of their own, pulling her starship to a stop and beginning to turn it around.

“Deet’var, no!” Erinys cried. “You can’t go back!”

“I have to.” Her voice was calm. Her heart bubbled with turmoil.

“You’ll be killed!” Erinys’s ship swooped in from the side, blocking Deet’var’s path.

“I have to help him, Erinys!” she screamed suddenly. “He’s not dead! He can’t be dead, Erinys!”

“His ship was taken down. He can’t possibly be alive,” Lachesis piped up tiredly. “Think, Deet’var.”

She bit her lip so hard that she pierced skin, tasting coppery blood on her tongue. She turned her ship around without a word and flew away, breaking into space. Those who had survived followed her, silence haunting them all.

No one said anything when Deet’var landed her ship and, without a word to anyone else, entered Lubeck Castle, where Aideen had been tending to their children.

Aideen’s eyes widened. “What—”

“Where’s Misha?” she asked.

“In the nursery,” Aideen responded, too frightened by the look of demand in Deet’var’s eyes to question her any further. Deet’var made for the nursery, hearing the cursory comments and reports of what had happened.

She pushed open the room to the nursery and heard a scream of horror from the main hall, accompanied by hushes of comfort. It must have been Aideen, she concluded through her hazy mind. All that mattered was the little baby with a head of green, lying in her crib. Gently, Deet’var took her out of her crib, smiling when Misha cooed and reached up to tug her mother’s hair.

Everything seemed to disappear from her mind. Her daughter, Lewyn’s daughter. Their daughter. She was the light of Deet’var’s life—she was the only remaining light in Deet’var’s life.

And what if she couldn’t protect her, like she hadn’t been able to protect him?

There was only one thing she could do to protect her light.

Deet’var hugged Misha close to her, wrapping her in a blanket before hurrying from the nursery. She brushed past the women gathered in the main hall and made for the outside, where her ship awaited.

“Deet’var!” Erinys cried, breaking away from the group of woman and running after her. Deet’var barely slowed her step.

“What?” she threw over her shoulder.

“Where are you going to go now?” Erinys asked. “I’m sure the queen will be more than willing to accept you.”

“...Nowhere,” Deet’var answered. “I’m going to be a wanderer. I have no home, Erinys, and I can’t go back to our home without him.”

“But—”

“Worry about yourself before you worry about me.” The words she said were too close to those words Lewyn had said to her before, and she continued forward towards her ship before Erinys could say anything else.

Misha stared up at Deet’var curiously as she slammed the cockpit down and started up the engine. Deet’var met her daughter’s gaze, and then looked back at the castle, where her only allies and reminders of who had once been her light remained.

“...I’m sorry,” she whispered.

She held Misha close to her as she shot through the air, flying towards her one and only destination.

The wind was blowing strong with occasional droppings of snowflakes when she made it back to Zaxon and stumbled up onto the porch of an old ally’s home. She hid herself away from the wind, that horrid reminder of him, under the hanging roof and knocked on the door. A few moments passed before the door opened, revealing a shocked woman’s face.

“Deet’var…?” Meriah asked breathlessly.

“It’s me,” Deet’var replied, and continued on without giving her a moment to rejoice or celebrate. “Can you do me a favor?”

“Of course,” the other woman said, pulling her shawl tighter around her and looking at her curiously.

“I need you to take care of Misha,” Deet’var blurted, showing her the bundled baby in her arms. Meriah blinked in shock, and Deet’var continued. “It’s not safe for her to stay with me. Please, Meriah. I—you’re the only person I trust to do this.”

“Deet’var, you…” Meriah trailed off, biting her lip.

“I’ll send funds. I’ll repay you, I promise. I just—she can’t stay with me, Meriah. Please.”

“I’ll take her, Deet’var. Of course I will.”

Deet’var let out a sigh of relief. “Gods. I can’t thank you enough, Meriah.”

“I’m your friend, Deet’var. If I am the only one you trust to do this, then of course I will do it.” Meriah glanced down at the baby in Deet’var’s arms.

A pain began to grow in Deet’var’s heart. She ignored it and, with gentle hands, gave Misha to Meriah. The fire of motherhood roared at her to take Misha back, but she knew better than to trust her emotions. After all, she had lost something worse than her life the last she had.

Meriah had already begun to look at Misha with familiarity and fondness. “She looks like you,” she murmured. Deet’var swallowed.

“I—” she pulled Lewyn’s necklace over her head and handed it to a startled Meriah. “Take this. Give it to her when she grows up. Tell her it’s… a momento. Of her parents.”

“I will,” Meriah promised, and pulled Deet’var into a one-armed hug. “Please, stay safe.”

Deet’var just leaned into her hug and pressed a final kiss onto Misha’s forehead.

Meriah watched as she climbed into _Theodora_ and shut the cockpit. Deet’var stared down at her as she ascended into the air. Her gaze shifted to the tiny baby, tucked in Meriah’s arms.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”

She didn’t know who or what she was apologizing to. Misha? Lewyn? Who knew? She didn’t.

Gods, Lewyn. Her heart hurt like a stab from a sword at the memory of his name. They could have been so happy. They could have loved, they could have lived, they could have been—

She began to cry. Her hands shook as she tore the controls to take her away from Silessia—their home—and to someplace else, where she could wander and wonder what it meant to see the light.


End file.
